The Greatest Reward
by Veryala Riddle
Summary: Lord Voldemort always rewards those who are faithful... and yes, where Bella is concerned, I think you know EXACTLY what that means. Oneshot, rated M for torture and sexuality.


**The Greatest Reward**

The screaming starts a second before the flash of crimson lights up the darkened room. Several onlookers' faces are illuminated for an instant before being consumed once more in shadow: most are frightened, some seem indifferent, a few look ecstatic, and one appears snakelike and malicious. But Bellatrix Lestrange has eyes for only one, agonized and terrified man writhing on the floor before her, screaming in pain as she cackles with sadistic pleasure.

She focuses all her power and rage on this man, unleashing years of hatred and malice from the end of her wand to make him suffer as he has never suffered before. His screams only feed her ecstasy, like oil poured on fire, and the sound of her laughter mixes with his desperate screams of agony in a sick, twisted harmony that fills the entire hall. Bellatrix's eyes are shining with delight as she lifts her curse momentarily and steps forward, wand pointed at the cringing man on the floor. She towers over him, grinning evilly at the expression of shock and horror on his face. He is in her power, and she revels in the sensation.

"_You have failed the Dark Lord_," she whispers menacingly, reaching down with her empty hand and closing her fingers around his neck. He tries to pull away but she holds him fast, nails digging into his skin and drawing blood as she squeezes tighter. No one in the room makes any move to stop her from strangling him to death, but she releases him before blackness overtakes his vision. She will not allow him the respite of sleep or the release of death. She is not finished yet.

"Bellatrix… please…." the man whimpers, struggling to breathe. He had not expected this from her, she was on his side, she was his wife….

_"There is no mercy for failure! CRUCIO!" _she shrieks, and the pain hits him again, ripping through his veins like fire, permeating every inch of his entire body… he must surely perish from this agony, he could not imagine any possibility of surviving it, he was going to die here in this room at the hands of his own wife….

Rodolphus Lestrange does not hear Bellatrix's maniacal laughter as it escapes from her mouth once more; the pain eclipses everything other sensation. Her laughter shows only a small part of the ecstasy she feels; the fire in her veins is not of pain, but of pleasure, consuming her as surely as her ruthless torture consumes her husband. She raises her wand again and again, mercilessly attacking him with all her fury, thinking of nothing but how she loves to cause him such pain, how his screams are like a drug that lifts her higher and higher as they become more agonized. His eyes start to roll and her heart feels like it will explode with pleasure as she intensifies the Curse even more….

"That will do, Bellatrix."

The high, cold voice of her Master is the only thing that has the power to pull Bellatrix away from her howling victim. She lowers her wand to her side and steps back, the jubilant laugh slowly dying from her face to be replaced by a look of loathing and disgust. Rodolphus stirs feebly on the floor, whimpering softly.

Bellatrix tears her gaze away from her latest source of amusement and looks to her Master for a sign of approval. He stands on a raised dais at the head of the hall, watching the sobbing Rodolphus with contempt. She is slightly disappointed that he does not acknowledge her but addresses the entire room instead:

"Take care that no one repeats this… _mistake," _he says quietly, cold fury emanating from his entire body. No one dares to move as he silently walks forward to stand over the heap on the floor that is Rodolphus. Rodolphus cannot even speak for fear, cannot even beg in vain for the forgiveness that is never bestowed. He lies frozen on the floor, breathing shallowly and waiting for the next curse to hit him.

"You have failed Lord Voldemort, Rodolphus," Voldemort's cold voice says quietly. Bellatrix's heart starts to race again. She does love seeing her Master torture people, perhaps even more than she loves doing it herself….

But once again she is disappointed, for Lord Voldemort turns his back on Rodolphus and strides quickly back to the raised dais. Bellatrix's eyes remain fixed on him, shining with the same admiration and desire that has made her one of his most trusted servants ever since she became a Death Eater. She never tires of watching him, even when he is furious – perhaps especially when he is furious, for it is then that he is at his most powerful. She fears his wrath as she has always feared it, but fear is strangely pleasant when he is its foundation….

"Remove him, Rabastan," Voldemort commands, his sharp voice awakening Bellatrix from her thoughts. Rabastan Lestrange immediately shuffles forward from the onlookers and kneels beside his brother. He half-drags, half-carries him out of the room, and the sound of retching can be heard from the corridor outside. There are a few moments of silence before Lord Voldemort speaks again.

"You will all leave this room, or suffer my intense _displeasure._"

His Death Eaters are only too glad to follow his orders, and they all make for the door as eagerly as they dare. Bellatrix is about to join them before she hears her Master's voice once more:

"Bellatrix, remain."

This command is enough to make Bellatrix's heart race, and she gladly stays behind. The room soon empties and she is left alone with her Master, an event that is rare but all the more pleasurable for it. His back is turned to her on the dais, and he does not speak. For all the notice he takes of her, she might not even be there, but Bellatrix is only too happy to wait, using the time to stare at him in a way that she refrains from doing in front of anyone else.

"Bellatrix," he says after a few moments, still keeping his back to her. "You are my most loyal servant."

Bellatrix's heart leaps and her eyes shine with delight at the words she has yearned to hear for so long. "I live to serve you, my Lord," she says, dropping to her knees and bowing her head. He turns at the sound of her contact with the floor and paces slowly toward her.

"Indeed you do," he says quietly, and Bellatrix looks up, delighting in the knowledge that her Lord is pleased with her.

"You have tortured your own husband without mercy, simply because I asked you to." A cruel, mirthless smile spreads over his lips as he speaks, creeping into his tone of voice and making Bellatrix nearly shudder with glee.

"Anything for you, my Lord," she says earnestly, bowing her head once again.

"Indeed, you would give me anything, wouldn't you, Bellatrix?" He sounds almost amused with her now. "And Lord Voldemort rewards those who are faithful."

Bellatrix looks up, eyes shining, telling her Lord how eagerly she awaits her prize without even speaking. He laughs his mirthless laugh, which only makes her excitement greater.

"You will no longer share your husband's bed," he says softly, and her heart skips several beats.

"M-my Lord?" she gasps, hardly daring to believe what her ears are hearing. Her dreams, her deepest and most guarded fantasies, all begin with words similar to these. The Dark Lord reads it in her gaze as he has read it ever since she first laid eyes on him. He chuckles softly, driving her wild as he moves even closer. Her heart feels like it's about to explode out of her chest.

"You will return to this room tonight, after your latest _victim_ has gone to sleep." A sneer crosses his mouth as he mentions Rodolphus, and Bellatrix cackles happily, remembering the pleasure she had felt when her Master allowed her to be the instrument of her husband's torture.

"Yes, my Lord," she says, making no effort to hide the wide, exultant grin on her face. Lord Voldemort turns from her and returns to the dais.

"You may go," he says, and Bellatrix reluctantly leaves his presence, feeling more delighted than she has felt in years.

That night is one that Bellatrix will never forget. She had often wondered where the Dark Lord spends his nights, and her curiosity – among other things – is finally satisfied. They Apparate into his dark chambers and waste no time with words; as soon as they arrive Lord Voldemort seizes her and crushes her lips with a fervor she never would have expected. His long-fingered hands press her to him, one behind her head and the other at the small of her back, nails digging into her skin. She does not stop to wonder about his eagerness but instead responds with equal enthusiasm, kissing him like she has never kissed anyone before, allowing herself to completely let go and fall into the arms of the one she has loved for so long. Her hands find every inch of him they can reach, fully aware that they may never get the chance to touch him this way again. Bellatrix has no reservations, no fears, and no shame on this night, the one that until now existed only in dreams.

Her Lord pushes her onto her back and she briefly feels herself falling onto smooth, silky sheets before his presence on top of her eclipses every other sensation. She wraps herself around him, determined to be as close to him as possible, committing every feeling to memory as it passes delightfully through her body. She presses herself against him as if her life depends on it, wanting him more than she has ever wanted anyone or anything in her entire life. His lips have forced hers apart long ago and his tongue now moves deliciously through her mouth, eagerly entwining itself with hers. She moans with pleasure as he caresses her cheekbones, moving his mouth to her neck and biting gently at her skin. She throws her head back and knows only that she never, ever wants him to stop.

Everything that stands in the way of their union is soon thrown roughly to the ground, and she presses herself to his bare chest with a passion so deep it threatens to tear her apart. Pleasure builds inside of her as their mouths and hands explore every part of each others' bodies, a raging inferno of desire gathering fuel inside her chest. She feels him poised at her entrance a second before he pierces into her body, sending fire rushing throughout her entire being as screams of pleasure erupt from both their mouths. Her eyes roll backward and her body goes weak as the sensation overcomes her. They reach the height of their pleasure at the same moment, filling the room with their screams and moans of ecstasy. She feels her Lord collapse beside her as she falls back onto the sheets, panting and moaning still. His arm reaches for her, pulling her toward him, and she allows him only too willingly. His lips brush hers as he reinstates himself on top of her and speaks quietly for the first time since their arrival:

"Have you enjoyed Lord Voldemort's reward?"

"My _Lord_," she whispers softly. Unable to find the words to express herself, she looks into the Dark Lord's blood red eyes, knowing he will find her feelings there. He chuckles quietly and mirthlessly, knowing her mind immediately and requiring no further response from her. He has always enjoyed the sensation of power over another, and delights in knowing that he can make Bellatrix submit to his will whenever he likes.

"Lust builds inside all of us, Bellatrix, and it must be tamed," he hisses, and before she knows it he throws her to the ground, reveling in the power he has over her, roughly taking her for himself over and over again. He makes no effort to be gentle with her this time, but she does not care – she is his to command, and he may use her however he likes, no matter how much blood or bruising is revealed the next day.


End file.
